The Moment When I Catch You Down
by Morralls
Summary: "You think I'm letting my brother take a heroin addict home with him? You're out of your damn mind."   "If I hadn't broken up with him, this wouldn't have happened."  Kurt knows that he destroyed Blaine. What he doesn't know is if he can save him.
1. Chapter 1

He had to pass Blaine's apartment every day to get to the bus stop, and he pretended that he didn't notice, didn't remember the days when Blaine would be waiting with a bouquet of flowers or a cup of Kurt's favorite coffee or just a bright smile and a hug. He pretended that Blaine didn't live their anymore, because he still loved him and he knew that he needed to move on.

Who stayed with their first boyfriend for all of their lives? It was unrealistic and they both needed to move on and live their lives and see what loving other people was like. It didn't mean they couldn't end up together. It just meant that they needed to see what it was like to not be together all the time. Nothing had been wrong with their relationship. Kurt loved Blaine and he was happy with him, but it was fair to see what the rest of the gay community in New York was like, and frankly, there were a lot of gay men in New York.

Kurt dated around for a few months and tried not to notice when Blaine's apartment went up for lease, because it meant that Blaine had moved and he wasn't nearby anymore and he had so obviously been avoiding Kurt that Kurt didn't want to talk to him if he didn't want to hear it. So he kept pretending not to remember, because that made it easier not to hurt, and he kept going on dates with guys who were all missing that _something_ that he couldn't explain, and he kept telling himself that he hadn't broken his own heart, and he forced himself not to wonder if Blaine was hurting too.

Time passed in the agonizing slow way that it only does when someone's heart is trying to heal, and eventually six months had passed and Kurt was in his studio a dress on a mannequin and pins held between his teeth as he carefully ripped the seam on the sleeve because it just _wasn't working_. His phone rang and he put it on speaker, talking around the pins. "Kurt Hummel."

"Kurt, it's Finn. I need you to come to the station."

"Kinda busy, Finn." Kurt informed his stepbrother. "Why would I need to pay a visit to the NYPD? Are you trying to get me to bring you lunch again, because I _told_ you that I'm not doing it anymore."

"_Kurt_." Finn sounded exasperated. "It's not about food. Just… come, okay?"

Kurt sighed. "Fine. After I finish this."

"Now, Kurt."

"What are you, my father? Alright. I'm on my way." Kurt pulled the pins out of his mouth and stuffed them into a pincushion. He locked up his studio and hailed a cab, thankful that it was a short ride to the police station. Finn was waiting for him when he got there, tall and looking sharp in uniform, an evidence bag in his hands. "I'm here, Finn, what's this about, and why are you holding a bag of… is that heroin?"

Finn nodded. "Yeah, we did a gang bust and found them after someone. Guy's pretty beat up, and he had this on him."

Kurt watched his brother shrewdly. "You're not telling me something."

"That's because it would be easier to show you. Come on." He led Kurt to and observation study for an interrogation room. Kurt looked through the two-way mirror and sank into a chair. The man in the interrogation room had looked up as though he felt Finn and Kurt's eyes on him and Kurt saw bruises and scrapes, a sluggishly bleeding lip and long hair that was matted with blood. He was unnaturally thin and had purple, bruise-like circles under bloodshot eyes.

"Finn… I have to talk to him."

"I can't let you do that. Addicts are dangerous."

"He won't hurt me."

"Kurt, he's not the same person anymore. You never know what he'll do."

Kurt looked at his brother through tears. "Finn, it's Blaine."

Finn chewed his lip. "I'm going in with you."

"I need to talk to him alone."

"This is the only way you'll get to talk to him at all. Take it or leave it."

"He doesn't have anything dangerous on him, no weapons. Wait outside the door. If he does anything remotely threatening, I'll call for you. Please, Finn. I need to talk to him alone." Kurt pleaded.

Finn sighed. "Fine, but I want my Sergeant in here, just in case."

Kurt nodded. He waited for what seemed like forever, until Finn stood by the door, his gun drawn, and told Kurt he could go in. Kurt opened the door and slipped inside. Blaine hadn't looked up from where he sat, staring at the table, and Kurt slowly walked to the other chair. "Blaine…?"

Blaine's head shot up and he stared at Kurt, his mouth open. "Kurt?" His once-beautiful voice was raw and hoarse, and it brought tears to Kurt's eyes. He sank into the chair across the table and reached over to take Blaine's hands.

"Blaine, what _happened_ to you?" He asked gently.

"I… I don't know. It's all a blur. We broke up and I… I don't know, Kurt." Blaine whimpered.

"Yes you do. Think back, Blaine. Really _think_ about it."

Blaine stared at the table, talking slowly. "We broke up, and I…. starting drinking. And then I started _really_ drinking, and I quit my job… I couldn't afford my apartment, so I moved. I was in a bad neighborhood, and I had bad neighbors, and then… then…"

"Then someone told you that they had something great that would make you forget." Kurt finished, knowing where this story went, crying silently.

Blaine nodded. "And so I tried it. I figured… what the hell? And it _worked _and… now I'm here."

Kurt was crying like he hadn't in years. _Oh God, Blaine. What did I do to you? Why did I think that we needed to break up when we were so happy together? _"Blaine, I'm going to go and talk to Finn, and you're going to sell your apartment and you're going to come home with me. I'm going to fix this."

Blaine shook his head. "Don't. I'm not worth it."

"You used to think you were worth it."

"I wasn't. I've never been. I-"

"Blaine." Blaine looked up at him, and Kurt squeezed his hands. "I want to."

"Why?"

"Because you need it, and I need to help you, okay? I need to do this. Please don't tell me I can't." Blaine nodded slowly and Kurt kissed his forehead before leaving the room, where Finn was pacing, tense and frustrated. "When can he leave?"

"Kurt, he can get charged a two thousand dollar fine and 3 months in prison for possession alone. The fact that he's _obviously_ a user gets him more time or rehab. We can't just set him free."

"You're not. You're releasing him into _my_ care, and I'm going to take care of him."

"You think I'm letting my brother take a heroin addict home with him? You're out of your damn mind."

"Finn Hudson, I didn't ask if it was okay with you, and frankly, I don't _care_ if it's okay with you. If I hadn't broken up with him when _nothing_ was wrong in our relationship, he wouldn't be here now, and it's _my_ fault this happened to him and it's _me_ who is going to help him. Do _not_ condescend to me, Finn Hudson, or you will regret it." Kurt snapped, glaring at his brother. "He's not some murderer, Finn, and he doesn't need to be treated like one, and I'm sure that if I call Rachel, she'd agree with me."

Finn groaned. "I'll talk to Sarge." He disappeared into the observatory and Kurt sat on the bench outside the interrogation room. A half hour or so later, Finn came back out and handed Kurt a series of release papers. "It's going to cost you three and a half grand."

"I have the money and then some." Kurt replied.

"There are extenuating circumstances, and I'll be checking up on his progress. I'm coming over later to see how he's settling in and I'm on call at _all times_ if anything goes wrong. I'll give you the full rundown tonight. For now, make sure he gets a decent meal."

"I will." Finn went in and retrieved Blaine, and Kurt took his hands. "You ready to go?" He asked gently. Blaine nodded, casting Finn a terrified look and sidling closer to Blaine. "You didn't threaten him." Kurt said darkly.

"Just made sure we understand each other." Finn said, casting Blaine a look that had him trying to hide behind Kurt.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "As you can see, he's so dangerous." He slipped an arm around Blaine. "Come on, Blaine. Let's get you home."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I was surprised that people actually wanted to read this story, because it seems like it would be depressing. For the record, yes, Finn and Rachel are married, and she's on Broadway and Finn works for New York's finest. Kurt is an up-an-coming fashion designer, and Blaine is currently a jobless drug addict. Reviews inspire me to write more and update faster. Just saying.**

Blaine looked out of place in Kurt's apartment, and he never had before. Of course, back when he used to sit at Kurt's kitchen table, it was with a fond smile and looking perfectly put together. What sat at his table now seemed like the last few pieces of a very broken man that Kurt himself had destroyed. Kurt sat on the table and took Blaine's chin in his hand, lifting his face and carefully cleaning his busted lip and the scrapes and scratches around his face. "It doesn't hurt, does it?" Blaine shook his head, looking at Kurt with hollow eyes, and Kurt felt his heart break. "You have to talk to me, Blaine."

"I don't know what to say." Blaine replied softly.

"Just talk to me. You never had a problem with it before."

Blaine shrugged and Kurt sighed. His door opened. "Kurt?"

"In the kitchen, Finn." Kurt called back. His brother came into the kitchen where Kurt was now gently washing the dirt off of Blaine's face with a rag and sat down.

"Settling in, Blaine?" Blaine flinched at the way Finn said his name, moving his chair closer to Kurt, who shot a glare at his brother.

"He's been wonderful." Kurt replied sharply. Finn raised his eyebrows, but knew better than to argue with Kurt. "I'm about to make dinner. Would you like to join us?" Blaine gave Kurt a terrified look and Kurt smiled and brushed his hair out of his eyes comfortingly.

"Sure. Is Rachel invited?"

"Of course. Give her a call." Kurt replied, getting up and hunting through his cabinets. "Baby, is there anything in particular you want?" He asked over his shoulder. The words came out so easily, and when he looked at Blaine, his ex boyfriend was staring at him. "Blaine?" Finn spoke in the background, talking to Rachel.

"I'm not hungry." Blaine replied quietly.

"Blaine, you have to eat _something_." Kurt reminded him. Blaine shrugged and Kurt sighed and started pulling things out of the cabinet, starting some chicken scampi. It had always been Blaine's favorite, and Kurt was willing to fight dirty to get him to eat something. As the water started to boil, Kurt took Blaine's hand and pulled him out of the chair. "You need a shower, and tonight, I'm cutting your hair. Go get clean."

Blaine nodded obediently and wandered off towards the bathroom. "You're not afraid that he'll try to leave?" Finn asked.

"I'm terrified, and I have no idea what to expect from this whole thing." Kurt replied, sitting down across from his brother. "But he needs me, and I need to help him. Is Rachel coming over?"

"Yeah. She'll be here soon. She doesn't know about Blaine yet, so it should be interesting." Finn said with a sigh.

"Alright, what are these extenuating circumstances?" Kurt asked, folding his hands on the table.

"First, he might need rehab. I'm leaving that under your judgment, but I need to know that if he becomes too much for you to handle, you can check him in. Second, he's got to go to a psychiatrist, so that we can get a basic idea of his mental state." Finn stared at his hands. "And… if he leaves here, and we find him and he's not clean, he goes to rehab, and then he goes to prison."

Kurt glared at his brother. "So you'll punish him when he needs someone to care for him."

"Not my rules, and it was the only deal I could get you. You're several stories up, so if you move the deadbolt to the outside of your door, he can't get out. I would recommend you do that soon. Withdrawal kicks in about forty eight hours after the last usage, and things are going to get rough. I brought you some information about what you can do to help, and if you need it, I want you to call me. I don't know if you can handle this on your own, Kurt, because it's not going to be pretty, and it's not going to be easy for him, and when it gets to the worst, you're going to be willing to do just about anything to spare him that pain. You can't, and if you don't think you can refuse him anymore, I want you to be able to call me. I don't trust him around you, but I want to help him too. I'm just not sure that giving him so much kindness is going to have the desired effect."

"What am I supposed to do? Threaten him like you did? Something _obviously_ happened to him. He's terrified of everything." Kurt replied.

"You see it enough times and you _have_ to harden your heart against it." Finn replied. "Because when he's shaking and sweating and crying and begging you, you have to be able to say no, and it's not easy and you feel bad _every single time_. I don't know if you're ready for what you've gotten yourself into, okay?"

Kurt bit his lip against tears. "It's that bad?"

"Worse."

"Finn, what have I done to him?" He asked in a horrified whisper.

"Don't start thinking like that. You broke up with him, and you were strong enough to keep living your life. You aren't responsible for his poor decisions. You love him just as much as he loves you." Finn replied.

"If he had broken up with me, I might have fallen apart too." Kurt said. "And they were all missing something. Everyone I dated after him was missing _something_, and I know what it is. None of them were Blaine. And now even _Blaine _isn't Blaine anymore." He got up and started busying himself with dinner as Rachel arrived. Finn went to let her in, and not a minute later, she was tearing into the kitchen to hug Kurt.

"Oh _Honey_."

"Don't, Rachel. I'm fine. He's the one who needs help." Kurt replied. Blaine returned from his shower, dressed in one of Kurt's t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants.

"Blaine?"

"Hi Rachel." Blaine said quietly.

"Honey, your _voice_." Rachel looked heartbroken, because she had loved to listen to Blaine sing almost as much as Kurt had, and Blaine's hoarse voice wouldn't be able to handle the music he had once been so fond of. Blaine shrugged, and Rachel hugged him tightly. "You're going to be alright, Blaine."

"Yeah… Kurt, where am I sleeping?" Blaine asked. "I'm tired."

"My bed."

"But what about you?"

"I have a couch."

"I'm not taking your bed and making you sleep on the-"

"You need it more than I do." Kurt replied. "Now dinner is almost ready. Sit down."

Blaine sat obediently, and Rachel took a seat beside Finn. Kurt dished out the meal onto plates, and gave Blaine a plate. "I'm not hungry."

"I don't care. You need to eat." Kurt replied, sitting next to him.

Rachel tried to get a conversation out of Blaine as dinner began, and Kurt had to admit that it was a valiant effort. Blaine, however, answered her questions with a nod, a shake of his head, or a shrug, and finally, Rachel gave up. They left shortly after dinner, which Blaine barely ate, and Kurt dragged him back into the bathroom with a comb and a pair of scissors.

"You've let yourself get scruffy. You'll need to shave, and tomorrow, you and I are going to your apartment to sell it and get your things." He said simply, combing out the thick curls.

"No. I don't want to go back there." Blaine said quickly. Kurt frowned.

"Then I'll go alone."

"No! You can't!" Kurt gritted his teeth, but didn't reply, cutting Blaine's hair into some kind of style again. It didn't take long, and when Kurt put his scissors down, Blaine looked more like himself. "Come on. I'm sure you're tired."

Blaine nodded and Kurt put him in his bed, giving Blaine his best _don't argue with me_ look until Blaine relented and climbed into bed. Kurt turned the light off and went to the couch, thinking that he would have to convert his home studio into a guest bedroom for Blaine. He spent the next two hours planning on how he would design it, something bright and inviting, maybe.

Then Blaine screamed, and Kurt threw himself off the couch and darted into his room. Blaine was tossing on the bed, whimpering, trapped in some horrible nightmare. Kurt climbed onto the bed and pulled Blaine close, smoothing his mussed hair and whispering to him. "Blaine, baby, it's okay. You're going to be okay."

Blaine woke up and burrowed into Kurt's warmth, shaking and sobbing, repeating Kurt's name over and over again. After a half hour or so, his tears subsided and he fell asleep. Kurt stayed there all night, holding Blaine, stroking his hair, and repeating that everything would be okay. As he repeated it, he wondered who he was trying to convince: Blaine, or himself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: I can't **_**believe**_** how many positive reviews I've had about this. I'm so excited about this fic. Again, reviews make me super happy and keep me writing.**

Kurt stared at his ceiling, impatient. "How much longer is this going to take?"

"It's going to take as long as it takes." Blaine replied from where he was rummaging around in Kurt's closet. "How many more times are you going to ask?"

"Until you're done." Kurt replied, standing up and looking inside his walk-in. Blaine was wearing a tattered jacket over cheap t-shirt and bloodstained jeans. "You look like a hobo."

"That's kind of the idea." Blaine replied plainly. "And you don't have anything that I can work with. Walking into my neighborhood is already a bad idea. Walking into my neighborhood in designer labels is a _really_ bad idea."

"Not all my clothes are designer." Kurt replied, hunting through his clothes beside Blaine.

"Express counts."

Kurt gasped in mock horror. "Bite your _tongue_. It is _not_."

Blaine rasped a laugh, pulling a t-shirt out of the clothes. "I might be able to work with this."

"It's a plain black t-shirt." Kurt replied.

"Give me your least favorite pair of jeans, some scissors, and put you in my jacket and you'll fit right in."

"You want me to destroy my jeans?"

"Sacrifices must be made."

Kurt looked appalled, but pulled out a pair of plain Levis. "There are scissors in my home studio. It's the third door on your-"

"I know where your home studio is, Kurt." Blaine reminded him gently. Kurt flushed.

"Right. I'll be… in here, I guess."

He paced his room as Blaine wandered off to destroy the jeans. He called Finn. "Is everything alright?"

"Everything is fine. We're going soon to collect his things and get him out of his lease. We shouldn't take too long, and I'll call you if something bad happens. It's not too far away."

"So what did you need?"

"I was wondering if, while we were out, you could um… move the deadbolt to the outside of the door. I don't know how much longer Blaine has before things start going downhill, and I don't want him to see me doing it." Kurt admitted quietly.

"I'll take care of it. Text me when you're leaving and I'll come by. What are you going to tell him when you get home and he sees the deadbolt?"

"The truth?"

"That will go over well."

"Well what other reason can you think of, Finn?"

"Fair enough. Alright."

Blaine returned and tossed Kurt a pair of what had once been jeans. "I've got to go. We're leaving in a minute."

"Alright. I'm on my way over."

"Thanks." Kurt hung up and shed his skinny jeans. He flushed when Blaine stared at him. "What? It's nothing you haven't seen before."

"Yeah." Blaine took his jacket off and handed it to Kurt, who shrugged into it, trying not to melt at the smell of Blaine that drugs and alcohol and even the bad side of New York couldn't get rid of. It had been so long. "So... I'm going to have to get on my knees and beg you to take the subway." Blaine murmured.

Kurt couldn't fight a grin. "If you're going to be on your knees, I can think of something better for you to be doing." Blaine flushed scarlet and Kurt rolled his eyes. "I was _kidding_. Come on. If you want to get me on a subway, we need to go now before I lose my resolve."

They left together, and as they sat together on the subway, Kurt started thinking. One day in his company and Blaine was starting to improve. The circles under his eyes weren't as prominent and he was talking again. Kurt was starting to see bits and pieces of the man he loved poking through the shattered human that sat where Blaine was supposed to be. How long it would last before Blaine started to fall apart, Kurt didn't know, but it wouldn't be much longer. It was better to get this over with now and not worry about it. He wanted to get Blaine's things out and put him back in his apartment. His next stop would be his studio so that he could get a few mannequins and some of the pieces that he was working on. His line wasn't going to wait for Blaine to recover, and an up-and-coming designer didn't often get invited to fashion week.

All the same, he intended to work at his apartment for as long as he could, so that Blaine wouldn't be left alone for long hours while he recovered. He also wanted to get some grocery shopping done so he wouldn't have to go out and do that, and maybe run up to the fabric store to get more materials. There was so much to do and a day at most to do it. As he watched Blaine watch the rest of the subway passengers, he came to the realization that he didn't know how Blaine felt about all of this. "Blaine? What do you want?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… do you want to get out of this? Do you want to get clean?"

Blaine blushed lightly, staring at his hands. "Do I have a choice?"

"No, but just because you have to do something doesn't mean you have to want to."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Why did you break up with me? What was wrong in our relationship that you wanted to see other people? It makes no sense that you would break up with me when nothing was wrong because you didn't think it was realistic for us to be happy together. Wasn't it enough to know that we were?" Blaine asked earnestly. It was Kurt's turn to look away.

"I don't want to talk about _that_."

Blaine offered a bitter laugh. "No. I don't really _want_ to get clean. But like I said, I don't really have a choice."

"Why don't you want to?"

"Because… Because I'm scared. I don't want to think about what's going to happen to me. I've been counting down the hours. I have five left. I don't know what it's going to be like once I get past that point. I don't know what's going to happen to me, and I hear that it's a pretty rough thing."

"You have to say it, Blaine." Kurt said softly. "You have to admit it."

Blaine flushed. "Withdrawal." He murmured. "This is our stop." He reached up and mussed Kurt's immaculate hair. "Don't look at anyone, don't talk to anyone, and don't look like you don't belong here."

Kurt nodded and walked as close to Blaine as he could, trying his best not to look like his heart was pounding in his chest. Blaine strode up the steps and into the building without looking at the trash and cigarette butts and joint roaches on the street, and when he got inside, he stepped over the used needles on the floor without looking at them. They took the stairs, walking through a cloud of smoke and passed a group of very stoned men who were passing around a blunt. Kurt tried not to look bothered by it, tried not to wrinkle his nose at the cloying, thick smell of the weed, and Blaine led him right past. They finally encountered someone who spoke on the second floor.

"Blaine."

Blaine stopped so suddenly that Kurt almost ran into him, and he eyed the man over Blaine's shoulder. He was barely taller than Kurt, with sunken, dull brown eyes and lanky hair that fell in front of his face without any attempt at style at all. His jacket was in bad condition, and there was a seam that was held together by duct tape. "Hi Donnie." Blaine said softly. The man, Donnie, pulled him close and kissed him, and Kurt tried hard not to have a bitch fit.

"Who's your friend?" Donnie asked, eyeing Kurt in much the same way that Kurt was eyeing him.

"I'm Kurt."

"He's my cousin." Blaine said quickly. "He's from Brooklyn and invited me to stay with him for a while."

"Hmm." Donnie stared Kurt down for a few more moments. "Blaine, can I talk to you in private?"

Blaine gave Kurt a look that he couldn't read. "Do you mind?" He asked, his eyes wide.

Kurt tried to fight back the jealousy and betrayal tearing at him. _You broke up with him, idiot. You should have expected this._ "Um… no. Here, give me your keys. I'll go start packing for you."

Blaine gave him another unreadable expression and handed over his keys. "I'm right next door." He said softly. Donnie closed the door rudely in Kurt's face, and the bewildered designer unlocked Blaine's door and looked around. The living room had gray walls with a threadbare carpet and a couch that looked like Blaine had taken it off the street. The rest of his apartment was just as bad. There was no food in the kitchen, and a bad of white powder was hidden in a drawer. Kurt threw it in the trashcan, which was full of empty liquor bottles and coffee grounds, and hunted down the bedroom. Blaine's bed was lying there, the sheets stained with blood and sweat, and Kurt wrinkled his nose in distaste. He didn't know how his orderly, neat, cleanly Blaine had lived in a place like this. He finally accepted that what Finn had said was true. Blaine wasn't the same person that Kurt had loved anymore. He had been lost to addiction and pain and sadness, and the man that Kurt wanted to help was just the hollow, empty shell of the person he had been secretly pining for.

It hurt, but he knew that he couldn't love Blaine in the same way anymore, because he wasn't the same person. It was with a heavy heart that he opened the drawers and started throwing the unfolded clothes into the bags that he had brought with him. There were barely any clothes in there, and it didn't take him more than a few minutes until he was cleaning out the last dregs of a sock drawer. His hand brushed against something that was soft and velvety and too hard to be a sock and he pulled out a small black box, staring at it in surprise. His hands shook as he opened it, and he was faced with several diamonds set in the most beautiful ring that he had ever seen.

It finally clicked in his mind, why Blaine had hurt so badly when Kurt managed to keep his life together. Kurt hadn't had plans for the future. With trembling fingers, Kurt took the ring out of its little velvet case and slid it into place on his left hand. It fit perfectly, and of course it would. Blaine knew his ring size. Tears slid down his cheeks, and he removed the ring and put it back in his box, stuffing it inside a sock and throwing it into the bag with the rest of Blaine's clothes. It was too much to handle.

He jumped at something thudded heavily into the other side of the wall, and he heard a grunt of pain that made him sick. He zipped the bag quickly and hurried out of the apartment, beating his fist against Donnie's door. A moment later, the man opened it, looking thoroughly irritated. Kurt pushed past him, looking for Blaine, who was cradling a bruised wrist, sitting on the floor where he had slid down against the wall. "I didn't invite you in."

"I didn't ask you if I could come in. What happened, Blaine?" Kurt asked, gently helping Blaine to his feet.

"I broke up with him."

Kurt rounded on Donnie. "You stay away from him, do you understand me? It's _over_, and I don't want to hear about you being anywhere near him, or I _will_ get the police involved."

"Empty threat." Donnie scoffed.

"Ask Officer Finn Hudson of NYPD. He's my brother." Kurt replied. "The two of you are through." He stormed past Donnie, too furious to be afraid, Blaine tucked close against his side. This time, it was Kurt that led the way through the building, not stopping for anyone, and before an hour had passed, they were back in Kurt's building.

"You know, I could be wrong, but aren't deadbolts used to keep people out?" Blaine asked, looking at the oddly placed lock.

"Finn's idea."

"Ah, I see. This is to keep me in."

"I'm sorry, Blaine."

Blaine shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I'm going to bed."

"I have a few things to take care of. I should be back before too long."

Blaine let himself in. "I'll see you then." Kurt waited until Blaine was inside with his clothes and tried not to break down as he locked the door and then deadbolted it.

He didn't expect everything to take as long as it did, and seven hours later, he returned with his arms full of things. He strode inside, locking the door carefully behind him. "Blaine?"

He unloaded his bags in the kitchen and found Blaine curled up in bed, trying unsuccessfully to sleep. "How are you feeling?"

"Been better." Blaine replied softly. Kurt went and sat on the side of the bed, brushing Blaine's hair out of his face.

"What's wrong? Maybe I can help?"

"'M tired." Blaine murmured. "Can't sleep though."

"How come?"

"I dunno."

Kurt laid down beside Blaine and let him snuggle up close, singing under his breath, songs that had meaning to them, songs that had been a part of their pasts, and a part of what had made them, and Blaine eventually did fall asleep. Kurt kissed his forehead.

So it began


End file.
